


Breakfast with the Enemy

by AuthenticAussie



Series: and we can watch the stars on the water [53]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 18:15:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5550461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuthenticAussie/pseuds/AuthenticAussie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kid wasn’t in the practice of regretting things; he did whatever the hell he felt like, screw the consequences, and his life had been working out pretty well so far due to that. He was well on his way to becoming a powerful pirate, he had more than enough treasure to form what any well-respecting pirate could consider a decent hoard, and he was on the Most Wanted list.</p><p>But he-</p><p>Well, he may have messed this one up a bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakfast with the Enemy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silmil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silmil/gifts).



> A christmas present for Silmil-p-pain on tumblr ;u;
> 
> Kidlaw served w/ a sideorder of enraged waffles :P

Kid wasn’t in the practice of regretting things; he did whatever the fuck he felt like, screw the consequences, and his life had been working out pretty well so far due to that. He was well on his way to becoming a powerful pirate, he had more than enough treasure to form what any well-respecting pirate could consider a decent hoard, _and_ he was on the Most Wanted list.

But he-

Well, he may have fucked this one up a bit.

He’d woken up to sunlight shinning from a porthole onto his face, and had been perfectly content relishing the warmth, until he realised that his ship didn’t have a porthole that looked like that. Kid had yelled and flailed in the bed, rolling over the edge in a panic he could only partially attribute to fear over being caught by the marines.

And then his brain had figured out that his sudden chill came not because he'd lost the blanket but because he wasn’t wearing clothes. Weirdly enough, the first thing that went through his head wasn’t, _where the fuck are my clothes,_ but rather, _holy shit I got lucky last night._

And then he realised that he was nose-to-nose with the shirt of one Trafalgar Law and changed his thought to, _holy shit, how drunk was I last night._

Footsteps resounding on metal broke his internal, incomprehensible yelling, and he quickly scrambled to grab Law’s shirt, pulling the way-to-small material over his much-to-broad shoulders and dragging the blankets further into his lap to hide the fact that he hadn’t been able to find his pants.

The door squeaked open, and Mr tall, lanky, asshole himself appeared in the door, obviously talking to someone over his shoulder, before his attention switched forwards. His eyes alit on the bed first, and Kid saw him frown, before he glanced to the draped blankets and found Kid on the floor. “Ah, Eustass-ya.” He said, and Kid saw his nose crinkle. “You’re awake.”

“I’m sure that’s a big pity for you,” he shot, and Law’s lips twitched into a grin.

“Well I was rather hoping to dump you onto a small inflatable raft and send you floating as your thanks for my hospitality, but sadly it seems I’ll have to resort to a different thanks.”

“Don’t expect me to offer it,” Kid said, and Law shrugged, before he squinted.  

“Are you-” he asked, and Kid swore mentally. “Are you wearing my shirt?”

Kid clenched his jaw, refusing to admit that he could feel his face flushing.

“Would you like me to go running around without it?” he challenged, gritting his teeth, and watched Law’s expression morph with curiosity and then realisation.

“Yes, actually. That sounds perfect,” Law drawled, a smirk dancing on his lips, and for a moment Kid thought that he’d only been making a flirtatious remark, “especially considering I believe you may have lost your pants.”

 _Shit,_ Kid thought, _he figured it out._

Law’s smirk widened into a grin, and Kid – for the first time since Law entered the room – cast a glance around for his missing clothing. If he could at _least_ find pants he could regain some dignity-

“Are you looking for these?” Law said, completely unperturbed, and when Kid turned his gaze back he really _really_ wished he’d killed Law when they’d first met. That bastard was _holding his pants._ He’d known Kid’s pants would have been missing since before he’d entered the room!

“Give them back,” he growled, standing and clutching the blankets close to his waist and Law grinned.

“Oh, I don’t know, Eustass-ya. They would look quite dashing on my navigator, don’t you think?”

“If you get fluffy bear shit on my pants-!” he shouted warningly, but Law only tutted, flipping Kid’s pants over his shoulder.

“If you want them back, coincide to have breakfast with me.”

Kid paused, feeling his face furrow into a frown like scrunched up paper. “Why?” he asked suspiciously, and Law shrugged.

“Call it a whim, if you’d like.”

Kid huffed, then stretched out his hand and made a grabbing motion. “Fine,” he growled, glaring. “Just give them back. And I swear if you poison me- I’ll haunt your ass for the rest of your life.”

“It is such a nice ass to haunt, though.” Law said, but he threw back Kid’s pants and turned on his heel, leaving Kid to get changed in peace.

* * *

  It had taken Kid two minutes to shed Law’s shirt for his own far more comfortable clothing, and five minutes after that to actually make himself leave Law’s room. He’d considered just walking off Law’s submarine and leaving the whole mess behind, but - though a lying, thieving scoundrel - he wasn't one to turn down a free meal.

When he got on deck he could feel the stares from Law’s crew burning into his back; but he'd long since gotten used to having people stare at him. His hair, his arm, his scars – he was an oddity, and he wouldn't have anyone making him bow his head out of shame for that.

Law had a little table set up in the shade of the weird eye-watchy thingy-ma-jig they use to see, and Kid stomped over there barefoot, internally giving a yell of anger at the hot metal but refusing to show it. He was going to treat this like a really, really shitty meeting of the Kill-the-Emperor alliance, and that meant a perpetual scowl.

Law _smiled_ at him as he drew closer, and Kid's perpetual scowl did a waltz right off his face, replaced in a matter of seconds with a confused frown.

“Do you like pancakes or waffles for breakfast more?” Law asked, still with that weird smile on his face, and Kid squinted at him.

“Huh?” he said intelligently.

Law stared at him like one would stare at a particularly annoying pet. His smile stretched too thin in aggravation, but Kid could see him easily squash the feeling.

Another thing to add to the list of things he hated about Trafalgar Law – the man showed _no_ fucking emotions. He kept everything bottled up so you could never tell what he was thinking. It pissed Kid off to no end.  

“Waffles or pancakes?” Law asked again, and Kid pulled out a chair instead of answering, making Law wait for the right to hear Kid speak.

“I don’t give a fuck,” he finally replied, and could hear Law give the tiniest groan.

Actually, Kid thought, giving an internal grin, having breakfast with Law wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe, if he was lucky, he’d even get to see Law angry. _That_ would be a sight to see.

Law, face flushed as he shouted, eyes gleaming furious, righteous anger, and Kid, cool in the face of it all.

Now that – _that_ was something he wanted to stick around to watch. Finding out what makes Law angry wouldn't be that hard, not when he'd had a lifetime of figuring out what buttons to push.

And, well…A round two when he could actually remember it?

He’d not turn that down either.


End file.
